CHAPTER XVII
                        THE MISTS

  The rest of our stay at the tower passed with Jolan and
Palas avoiding each other like plague rats.  Diana and I divided
our time between our room, the new library, and trying to sort
out the tangle between Jolan and Palas.  Diana tried to reason
with Palas, while I talked with Jolan, but neither seemed willing
to speak about it.  Jolan wouldn't even admit that he felt
anything for her--though, now that Diana had mentioned it to me,
I could see it with crystal clarity.  I wondered, in fact, how I
had ever missed it.  It wasn't really our place to meddle, I
suppose, except that the two of them would be with us until our
job was finished, and things would be easier if they were on
speaking terms with each other.  

  "Jolan, if there's nothing between you, then why are you
avoiding her?"  Jolan thought for a minute before answering.
  "Well... I just don't know how to act around her anymore." 
He shook his head in exasperation, "I tried to do something nice
for her, and you saw how that misfired!"
  "Well, she's young, and a bit temperamental."  That was
certainly true.  "And pulling the library practically out of thin
air was a bit much.  Look, you can't spend the rest of our time
together avoiding her!  You have to speak with her.  You have to
sort things out."  He turned away and shook his head.
  "I can't."
  "You must."  I persisted
  "I just CAN'T, blastit!" He stormed out.  I sighed.  Yet
another failed attempt.  Diana had no more luck with Palas, and
the rest of our group had noticed the rift between the two.  Of
the four only Marse had any idea of what was causing it, and even
he didn't know the half of it.  Half?  Not even an eighth.  There
were times when I wished I didn't either.  I found myself looking
at Palas differently.  I tried telling myself that she hadn't
changed, but... my conception of her had.  I found myself
treating her with even more tolerance than I'd extended her
before.  I wasn't sure if she noticed or not, but Diana did, and
she chided me for it occasionally, though she had to admit that
she'd had the same reaction at first.  
  "I don't understand them!" I complained when we were back in
our room, "Why can't they just admit it and get on with life?"
  "She's just afraid, Firemane.  She has no objections to
Jolan, in fact, I think she likes him too, but she just can't
handle intimacy for fear of her secret.  Gods, am I glad I have
you!"  The sudden change of subject took me by surprise.  
  "What do you mean?"
  "Well, I love you, and I also know that I can trust you, no
matter what.  I know that I could tell you anything and you'd
still love me.  I'm just happy that you're so wonderful."  I tell
you this in truth, Diana knows how to make a person feel special. 

  Palas and Jolan saw each other again only when Jolan called
everyone together to get ready to go to Kanda.  Even then, she
sat at the far end of the table from him, in the seat Merri had
vacated.  It seemed from the look on his face that Jolan had some
bad news to break.  For some reason, he kept looking at Marse as
he gathered his thoughts to speak.
  "I'm afraid that I cannot transport us to Kanda in the usual
fashion.  The Mists simply make for too much of a variable.  We
will be traveling by ship."  There was a loud, undisguised groan
from Marse's direction.  "I know you don't like the sea, cleric,
but if your goddess can't help you, I don't see much I can do
either.  If you like, I can give you something to help you sleep
through the trip."  He cleared his throat before continuing, "The
ship I've booked passage on is the Nyad's Call, sailing out of
Ortygia, which is as far south on the coast as you can get
without going into the Republic.  I think you will all like the
captain.  He's an old friend of mine, and when I say old, I mean
it.  He's on the far side of eighty, and still as hearty as a
bull.
  "I'll take us to Ortygia, but when we get there keep one
hand on your money and the other on your blade, as the saying
goes, because more than half the city is overrun with thieves and
cutpurses.  Fortunately, we won't be there very long.  I'll be on
the roof in two hours time.  Gather everything you'll want for a
long sea trip."  Jolan walked out, and I could see that it was
only with great determination that he didn't steal a glance at
Palas.  
  I selected several books from the new library to read on the
voyage.  I'd already learned a great deal about the history of
the Nine Realms, having read legends and tales dating back to the
Age of Strife, five thousand years ago and more, stories and
accounts of the great heroes and wars that shaped the Realms into
what they were.  It was strange to think that perhaps someday I
would be remembered just as a few pages in someone else's book. 
Of course, that was before I started writing this!  Diana also
selected a few, though she'd read many of them already, and she
knew a great deal more about history than I did.  She wisely
chose volumes dealing the history of Kanda, and the mighty empire
it had forged in the Age of Iron Peace.  We then hurried to join
Jolan on the roof.  
  When we got there, Palas and Jolan were actually speaking to
one another, which was amazing.  Unfortunately, they were in the
middle of an argument.  Palas was yelling, and had that set to
her face that meant she wasn't going to give in, no matter what.
  "Look, I don't need your help.  I can get to Ortygia on my
own."
  "Why?" Jolan asked, completely mystified,  "Supporting the
spell for one more or one less won't make that much of a
difference.  Why are you so angry at me?  Besides, it's safer if
we all travel together."
  "Oh, is that it?  You think I can't handle a simple Flight
spell?"
  "No, I know you can do the magic, Palas.  It's the distance
I'm worried about.  Like it or not, you are still relatively new
to magic, no matter how many years you've lived.  Now come on,
stop acting like a child and let me cast the spell."  Which, of
course, was exactly the worst thing he could have said.  
  "A child!?  I don't need you to...Ooh!"  Palas huffed and
broke off, looking thoroughly disgusted, whether with Jolan and
herself.  She glared over at Jolan and practically shouted the
words to her spell, jerking hastily through the routine and
drawing magic sloppily to propel her upward.  She took off like a
bolt, and whizzed about like a mad wasp for a moment before
heading south at an incredible pace. 
  "She'll wear herself out before she gets halfway there,
casting like that."  Jolan sighed wearily, and Diana and I shot
each other worried looks.  Palas exhausting herself magically
would end the problem of telling Jolan, but not in a pleasant
way, and if she was alone at the time... I hated to think what
could happen to her.  Jolan looked around and saw that everyone
had watched the argument, and the redoubtable magus blushed clear
to his ears.  "Well, anyway, gather around.  It's a long way to
Ortigya, even traveling like this."  Everyone gathered around the
wizard, and we were soon encased once more in a tiny bubble, and
sailing through the clouds toward our destination.  Everyone was
quiet following the scene between Palas and Jolan, but Felin came
over to me, and, for once quiet and discreet, asked to discuss
Palas with me.
  "Firemane, I think I know what's wrong with Palas, but  I
need your help.  I have trouble sometimes speaking... tactfully,"
she said, obviously not liking having to make that admission,
"Especially when what I'm saying should be obvious.  When she's
in our room she lays on her bed and cries whenever she thinks I
can't see her.  I think she likes the old man over there, but she
won't admit it.  You know how she is about things like that.  She
hides it and tries to act twice as tough to compensate, but if
even I can see that she's just acting, what must HE think?  And
that show she put on back there, I don't understand that.  I
mean, I can tell she likes him, but what does that have to do
with getting to Ortygia on her own?"  She looked me up and down,
as if considering something.  "I figure that since you and Diana
get along so well with each other, you might have some advice to
give on the subject.  What should I do?"  I chuckled softly.
  "I don't know any more about love than the next person,
Felin.  If I knew of anything to do about Palas and Jolan, I
would have done it already.  Diana and I have been trying for
weeks, but neither one is willing to listen."
  "I just don't understand."  Felin said, shaking her head and
echoing my earlier sentiments, "Why does it have to be so
difficult?  If she likes him, and he likes her, why do they have
such a hard time?"
  "Well, people act strangely when it comes to love.  I think
part of the problem is that when people talk about love, they
assume they're always speaking of the same thing."
  "Well, aren't they?" Felin asked.
  "No, I don't think so.  After all, what is love? 
Philosophers and poets have been arguing that one for years,
without coming to a definite conclusion.  As for myself, I think
love is never the same for anyone.  I mean, come on, I'm a
leonoid in love with a vixen.  Palas is an elf in love with an
Archmage, and Marse is a resurrected cleric in love with a dead
woman.  Do you really think I feel the same thing for Diana that
Palas feels for Jolan?  Then there's also the love people feel
for closest friends, love between a man and a woman, love between
parent and child, and love for a favorite pet.  All of these are
named love, and yet they share very little.  I think that's why
there is so much confusion around love, because no one is really
certain what it is.  If you seek love and find it in a form you
didn't expect, is that still love?  Will it make you happy, or
content?  If the love you find, however glorious it is in its
own right, isn't the love you imagined, will you be disappointed? 
The only way I can see to truly seek love is to seek it with an
open mind and an open heart, ready to accept whatever comes, to
place blind faith wherever it may fall."
  "You really did that?" Felin asked, wonderingly.  I laughed
again.
  "Gods, no!  Do I look crazy?  I got thrown into a cage and
found love purely by accident.  I doubt if anyone ever expects it
when it actually happens... it just happens, so far as I know. 
But then, as I've said, what I'm talking about means nothing to
you, because you'll never feel exactly what I'm feeling.  In a
way, that's sad, because love, as I know it, is a wonderful
thing.  But then, perhaps when you find love it will be even
greater that what I feel."  Felin nodded, looking a little glum.
  "How is it that I started talking to you about Palas, and
now we're discussing my love life... and lack thereof?"
  "Hey, you're the one who said that, not me."
  "But how do you know if you are in love, if it's so
completely unexpected?  How do you know if someone is in love
with you?"
  "Well, I think you just have to do a lot of listening. 
Listen to others.  Listen to yourself."  As I said this last I
realized that every eye in the sphere was on me, and that our
voices had risen over the course of the conversation.  I wondered
how much they'd heard.  Slowly,  sarcastically, Agnon began
clapping his hands together.
  "Bravo, Firemane, bravo.  Well spoken.  Fursina save me from
moon-struck romantics."  He shook his head as though disgusted.  
  "I think what he said is wise, and has a lot of merit.  I
think perhaps our good lion-man here knows more about love than
he admits."  Kiaphas said.  "And not all romantics are fools." 
He dipped his head in a bow, then laughed to make light of
himself.
  "Yes." Jolan said, "Well said, indeed." speaking more to
himself than to anyone else.  Marse looked strangely sad, and I
recalled my words about him loving a dead woman.  I guiltily
hoped he hadn't heard that.  I turned to Diana, and she threw her
arms around me, giving me a loving squeeze.  Her face brushed
against mine with an warm tingle, and she licked my nose.  
  "I love you, Firemane."  I was still trying to figure out
what I'd said that had everyone so worked up, but with Diana's
arms around me it seemed relatively unimportant, and I hardly
noticed the rest of the trip.  We set down in the harbor section
of a large town, the bubble of magic growing back to it's
original size and then vanishing.  Palas was there waiting for
us.
  "What took you so long?" She smirked.  
  "Our sanity." Marse jumped in to save Jolan from having to
answer, "We thought that arriving safely, without Jolan going
unconscious, would be preferable to arriving more quickly." 
Palas shrugged, as though uncaring.  With a pained look in her
direction, Jolan led us to the ship.  It was the first ship I'd
ever laid eyes on, but I knew it was something unusual right
away.  The ships near it had things encrusted along the bottom,
and their timbers looked old and weathered, but the Nyad's Call
practically gleamed.  She was a fairly large craft, with a large
carving of a maiden wielding a sword and bearing a shield on the
prow.  At the time, I thought the entire ship had been painted
gold and trimmed in blue, but I later discovered that the wood
itself was that golden color naturally.  Jolan asked for and
received permission to board, but as I was about to step aboard I
was halted by a woman's voice, seeming to come from the air
around me.
  "Hey!  You there!  Yes, the one with all the hair.  Don't
you dare scratch my decks, do you hear me?"  I looked around, but
couldn't see anyone speaking.  
  "You'll have to forgive my lady, sirs, she has a temper." 
This was a different voice, one from a visible source.  The
captain had just stepped into view.  He was, as Jolan had
indicated, very old.  His hair was stark white, and pulled behind
him into a tail, but despite his age his back was straight and
his steps were light, and the lines around his eyes and mouth
were more from laughing than from his age.  He seemed somewhat
like a rock jutting out of the coastline, half worn away by the
crashing sea, everything soft and frivolous long since carried
away, but the core, the solid essence, remaining.  He spotted me
with my foot dangling above the deck.  "I say, you're a new
sight.  And two..."  He looked again at Diana and bowed deeply in
apology, "Your pardon, three young ladies to grace this ship. 
And you, Jolan!  It's been too long, my friend."  He stepped
forward and embraced the Archmage, deep lined hands loudly
clapping Jolan on the back.  After a moment he pulled away, so as
not to seem improper.  "Welcome aboard, all.  We'll be underway
as soon as the tides turn, and then it's a short journey to
Kanda... or at the very least, until we reach the Mists."  He
laughed when he saw me still hesitating with my paw above the
deck.
  "You can come aboard, lad.  She makes it a point to yell
every time someone comes aboard, just to make herself known. Just
mind that you don't put any holes in her.  She's as vain as any
lady I've ever known."
  "Vain, am I?" came the female voice again, indignant, "Vain? 
And how many times have you bragged of having the finest looking
ship in the Nine Realms?  If you like, I could let the sea rot my
timbers and the barnacles crust my keel, but it'll be you that
drowns when we hit bottom, not me."  
  "Where is that voice coming from?" I asked.  "Who is that?"
  "That's the Nyad's Call herself, lad, and the voice... well
it comes from wherever it wants, I suppose.  But that's a tale
for later.  If it pleases you, ladies, I will escort you to your
quarters."  I nervously put my paw on the deck, careful to keep
my claws in.  Finding that putting my paw down didn't raise a
clamor, I brought the other one on board.  Diana quickly stepped
down behind me, and I felt slightly foolish for my hesitation. 
Then Agnon and Marse stepped aboard, and that was the last of us. 
Marse looked slightly pale, and he asked Jolan to do whatever he
needed to, and quickly.  Jolan nodded, and we were led to our
cabins.  I noticed that there seemed to be few crew members, and
what few there were were nearly as stately-looking as the
captain.  Mikhal had told me stories of his sailing days, and
never did the crew sound anything like that, but then, the Nyad's
Call was obviously an unusual ship.  Our cabins were probably
spacious, but to me they seemed small, enclosed.  Of course, I
was used to having the open air of forest and field around me, so
I suppose it wasn't really a fair judgment.  I didn't see what
Jolan did to Marse, but the cleric slept quite soundly for a long
while.  When all of our things were stowed, which didn't take
long, we were invited to the captain's stateroom, where he told
us to relax, and make ourselves comfortable.  There were a few
chairs, and they were offered first to the ladies, but both Diana
and I found ourselves more comfortable standing--having a tail
will do that for you.  Agnon was quick to claim Diana's chair,
and we were soon chatting merrily with the captain.
  "If you don't mind my saying so, captain, this ship is not
what I expected." I said.
  "Oh, I don't mind...Firemane, was it?" I nodded. "Good.  No,
I don't mind, and she's one of a kind, that's for certain.  But
then, I imagine that the same could be said for most of you, as
well."
  "Well, one can hope in Palas's case."  Felin said, just
before her chair mysteriously toppled over.  She got up,
muttering darkly about straw hair and scattered wits, but Palas
gave her a look that could have peeled paint.  Felin gulped and
righted her chair, and cautiously seated herself in it.  The
captain chuckled.
  "A strange lot you're traveling with these days, Jolan.  I
heard tell you were involved in the massacre in Ombal, during
some sort of festival."
  "Well, not exactly," Jolan said, "It's a rather long,
involved story."  The captain--odd, but I don't think I've ever
heard his name--threw back his head and laughed, a deep, booming
laugh that shook his aged body.  
  "It always is, with you, isn't it, old friend?  You must
tell these younglings some of the trouble you've gotten me into. 
Hells, half the ships in the Republic fleet have orders to bring
us in now, and the other half have orders just to sink us."  It
was Jolan's turn to laugh.
  "Good luck to them on that.  It would have to be one
hellishly mighty ship that brings down the Nyad's Call. 
Beautiful she may be, but she fights like a deamon for all that." 
There was a creaking noise, and I stood bolt upright, knocking my
head on the low ceiling.
  "Ouch!" the ship and I said at once.  
  "Look here, Lion-boy, when I told you not to scratch me up,
I meant not to put any dents in me... not even with your head. 
You don't need to worry, you land-bound fool, I'm not coming
apart at the seams.  I was just laughing, is all."
  "Of course," I said, rubbing the sore spot on my skull,
"Just... laughing.  Sorry about the dent in your...planks."
  "Aye, and sorry about the dent in your head, as well.  Don't
fret, I have no dislike of you."
  "Who's fretting?"  The creaking sounded again, but this time
I kept myself slouched against the wall.
  "This is a dangerous business you're about, Jolan."  the
captain was saying, "The Mists are not a thing easily dared."
  "And why are you doing this?" Kiaphas asked him, "I don't
mean to sound ungrateful, but why risk your life and this wonder
of a ship for us?"
  "I owe a great deal to Jolan for all the trouble he's caused
me, and if I carry him to his death, I can die a happy man."  The
captain delivered this with such a convincing tone and look that
we stared at him for several moments before he broke into a grin. 
"Oh, come on.  I'm not that bad.  Truth is, I'm an old man. 
Eighty years do come hard, and it's not as easy as it once was to
get out of my bunk every morning, even with such a wonder as the
Nyad's Call to help.  I'm in no rush to die, mind you, but I've
lived my piece, and if I die awake instead of abed, then so much
the better, I say.  Besides, Jolan says it should be fun, and
I've lived through his kind of fun before.  Has he ever told you
about the time..."  The captain went on to tell a great many
stories of his adventures with Jolan, too many for me to write
here and still finish this work of mine.  He also told the story
of how he acquired the Nyad's Call--or rather, how it acquired
him, to hear him tell it.
   "Now the Nyad's Call is, without doubt, the finest ship to
ever sail these waters."  He glanced sharply around the room, but
nobody said anything to the contrary.  "But 'twas a time when she
was no more than simple wood.  She's an old ship, and she'd be
the first to tell you so, and she'd seen more years than most of
you have now when I first served on her, then just an honest
seaman.  Now you've all heard legends of the black-sailed
barbarian ships that haunt the southernmost seas, but I tell you
there is truth to these tales.  I know, for I have seen them, and
fought them.  We were making a trading voyage to South Barsa,
just before it was overrun by Ogres and the like.  We were in
port, preparing to unload, when we saw the black sails on the
horizon.  The ships were soon visible, and they were as strange
as you've been told, long, narrow, and short, like an over-large
canoe.  South Barsa had occasional problems with pirates, and
their fleet of mighty ships was sailing near enough to signal,
which is the only reason I stand here to tell this tale today. 
The fleet sailed to beat off the invaders, war-magic sailing red
and blue from their sides, where their magi flung their spells. 
Many a black ship was destroyed, black sails and painted hulls
burning, but there were always more just out of reach, their
numbers swelling to overwhelm the fleet.  The barbarian's ships
were faster, more easily moved, and at close range they furled
their sails and relied on row upon row of oars.  Their
figureheads were great horned beasts, made from I know not what
material, and they rammed ship after ship, crashing through the
hulls, often sinking both ships.  Good Captain Froeth, then
master of this vessel, ordered us to run at full sail under cover
of the battle.  You may accuse him of cowardice if you like, but
we had no war-mage aboard, and no desire to lose this ship or our
lives.  As it was, one of the barbarian ships broke from the
battle to give chase.  They caught up with us almost immediately,
and they boarded us, thinking that we were bearing valuables away
from the city.  Good Captain Froeth could have surrendered then,
but he ordered every able bodied man from the first mate to the
galley hands to grab a sword and repel boarders, and when the
Good Captain said jump, everyone pretended to be a toad.  
  "The barbarians fought as though possessed, and many times
men--men, I might add, who were chosen for skill with rope and
sail and skillet, not the sword--turned to flee, but whenever our
hearts wavered we had but to look to the Good Captain.  He stood
tall in the thick of the battle, beset on all sides by the long-
bearded raiders, and for a time his sword flashed in the sun,
whirling here and there to taste barbarian blood.  Then that
blood obscured the bright iron, but still the sight drew men's
eyes.  There were many, among crew and barbarians alike, who
stood agape in the midst of the fighting, wonderstruck by the
ferocity of our Good Captain Froeth.  After seeing him, even the
faintest soul took heart, and fought with renewed vigor.  Even
so, our battle was hopeless.  We were but simple sailors and
crewmen, outnumbered from the start, and the barbarians were
warriors all.  
  The battle, hopeless as it was, seemed for the briefest of
moments to be turning in our favor, but then the inevitable
happened.  Some hidden archer's dart found it's mark on the Good
Captain, and he fell, the barbarians swarming over him like ants
on a crumb.  With the Good Captain gone, the crewmen had nothing
to rally to, and they broke before the onslaught.  To this day I
have the scar of the blow that felled me."  The captain showed a
short red welt across his neck.  "It was by the merest whim of
luck that I survived.  When I woke, I found myself alone among
the dead, and the ship was adrift in deepest waters.  The
barbarians had looted the ship, even to the point of stealing her
sails and a good part of the rigging, but I found enough food and
water left to last me a goodly time.  Had the crew lived, matters
would have been different, but as it was I busied myself
consigning my crewmates to their eternal rest.  I never found the
Good Captain's body.  I know not what the foul barbarians might
have done with it, but I live and pray that he found his eternal
rest.  If ever a man deserved it, it was he.  I lost track of
time at that task, but it must have been at least a week when I
said the parting prayers for the last body.  I know that the time
passed hellishly slow after that.  I couldn't tell you how long I
drifted like that, but I took sick with a fever and my teeth were
coming lose, and the food was beginning to look so slim that my
mind was working on ways to catch rats.  Aye, the Nyad's Call had
a few in those days, though she keeps herself fairly well clean
of them now.  Finally, though, she ran aground on a sandbar,
wedging herself in right proper.  I was thrown about a bit by
that, and came above-decks to find the most beautiful sight I've
ever seen in all my years.  An island stood before me, and
without a second thought I dove headlong into the water and swam
like mad for it.  No offense to m'lady, but I must say I was glad
to be off the ship.  
  "There were fruit trees and berries just inland, and I made
a feast of them.  I explored the island a bit, and found no sign
of human habitation.  That didn't mean that the island was
uninhabited, though, not by a long ways.  I found that out at
night, when I heard the tree folk dancing."
  "The what?" Felin asked.
  "Why, the tree folk, of course!"  The captain paused and
looked down at her.  "Oh, I forgot, you've not heard this tale
before.  The island was a place of Dryad spirits, people who's
lives are bound to trees.  At night they danced wildly through
the forest that gave them life, naked as they were born and
innocent as a lamb.  They gave me food and such shelter as they
had, but being tree folk they needed little protection from the
winds and rain, all except the smallest of them, who's trees were
but saplings.  I told them how I came to be there, and when I was
done many of them wept, not for the sadness of the story but from
wonder.  They knew nothing of the world off the island, for
though their bond with the forest gave them long life and strong
magic, it also trapped them, for they cannot leave the trees for
long.  The ones weeping were struck with a wanderlust, a desire
to travel and seek life elsewhere.  
  "The Nyad's Call became the answer to all our prayers.  The
leader of the dryads, a mighty oak of a woman, prepared a mighty
spell, to make the bond between human and tree physical as well
as spiritual.  Those struck with the wanderlust were drawn into
their trees, and, though it must have caused them pain, the trees
were cut down.  The dryads drew the Nyad's Call forth from the
sandbar, and used the felled trees to repair her, weaving
preservative spells around her mighty timbers.  When they were
done, those who had been felled were gone, merged into the Nyad's
Call.  The last thing they did was to carve the largest of the
trees into the maiden who graces our bow today.  You can well
imagine my surprise when she spoke to me, calling me to come
aboard.  The dryads gave us enough provisions to last me for
months, and then the ship pushed herself off, weaving around the
sandbars as though she saw them coming.  Which, of course, she
did.  We've sailed the seas together since, she and I, and never
have I found a lady so wondrous as she."
  When the tale-telling was done, the night was very much upon
us, and we went back to our cabins.  I passed most of the voyage
reading, talking with the ship, and marveling that Jolan and
Palas still managed to avoid each other.  How to you keep from
speaking to someone in such close quarters?    
  It was, as the captain said, only a few days of this before we 
arrived at the edge of the Mists.
  I was sitting on my bunk, reading, when I heard a scratching
noise.  Thinking that a huge rat must be loose-- though if it
was, it would be the first I'd seen on the Nyad's Call--I looked
up, to find that there was a leonoid with a dusky red mane and
tan fur crouched in my cabin, raking his claws along the deck,
making deep furrows in the planks.  He looked up and saw me
watching, and he grinned.  Not as I have sometimes tried to, once
or twice, mimicking a human, but a ferocious grin, devoid of any
humor, conveying only the twisted pleasure of cruelty.  He bent
down and slashed the deck again.
  "Stop that!" I yelled, knowing that the ship could feel
those claws.  "Who are you?  What are you doing here?"  He looked
up again, and the grin widened.  I have prayed since that I never
see anything like it again.  
  "You mean you don't know?" He asked, his voice growling and
angry, hate-edged.  "You look in a mirror, and you don't see
yourself?"  He laughed, but it was a bitter sound.  "I'm you, you
fool.  You can pretend all you like, but when you strip all your
lies and self-delusions away, I'm all that's left."
  "Then thank the gods for self-delusions!" I said, and he
gave his bitter laugh again.
  "You thank them?  When they have played this joke on you? 
What do you have to be thankful for?  You're a meaningless tag-
along on someone else's deluded quest.  You're a piece of
driftwood, a cast-off, that someone took pity on and dredged from
the ocean.  Don't you know me?  I'm what you were before you
forgot yourself.  Deep down, I'm who you really are."
  "Never," I growled.
  "You think so?"  He glowed a fiery red, and lashed out to
scorch a mark on the wall.  "Convenient power, isn't it?  Do you
know I sold your soul for it?  Do you miss it?  Ask yourself
this: Why won't anyone tell you about your past?  The wizard
knows everything.  So does the priest.  So do you, hidden far
down inside of you.  Ask yourself, what was so terrible that you
had to destroy yourself to forget it?"  These were things I had
dreaded and wrestled with since recovering my wits in Mikhal's
hut, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing my doubt,
my hurt.  I got to my feet and faced him, growling.  "Oh, you
want to fight?  That's your solution for everything, isn't it? 
If things don't go your way, just smash something and it feels so
much better, doesn't it?  That woman was right, you know.  Once
you start killing, once the bloodlust has you, you'll never stop. 
You'll just keep on killing, mindless, uncaring.  Your powers,
they come from sorcery and necromancy, you do know that, don't
you?  Witchcraft and blackest magic, that's what you owe your
life to.  Everytime you kill, you feed.  You drain the life of
those around you, slowly, little sips from their souls.  Evil
created you, evil is your heritage and your destiny!"  His eyes
lit with an unholy eagerness.  He held out his hand, still bathed
in a blood-red glow.
  "Join me.  Let me in.  Listen to these pathetic sheep!  They
call you deamon, they beat you, they cage you, they spit on you,
they treat you as an animal, as something they can keep and own
as a pet, and still, still, you do nothing?  Just take my hand,
and let me in, and we will teach them to respect you.  You are a
king, don't you know that?  Blood royalty, of the oldest line. 
But here you sit, not a copper on you, dressed in next to
nothing, your talents wasted on these fools.  Join me, and there
will be no limit to your kingdom.  You've seen that these humans
are mere sheep, waiting to be sheared and led to slaughter.  Let
me in, and you will feast on their blood and flesh, rule a mighty
nation, bring order--your order!--to this world of chaos!  
  "Shaloc lives and hunts you still, do you know that?  So
does Rr'ral the wolf.  They'll never forgive you, and they'll
never forget the humiliation and pain you've heaped on them.  You
need me to help you fight them.  Think!  Time and again, what has
saved you?  Your gentle human nature?  Your quick wits?" He gave
a short, scornful cough of a laugh, "I'm the one who's pulled you
out of scrape after scrape; your instinct, your predator's heart.
  "And the woman!  Oh, she's a nice bit, isn't she?  But why
only one woman?  You're a lion, and a king, and you need and
deserve more.  This elf-waif, she's about the right size, isn't
she?  And you could feast for days on the magic she hoards.  You
can take it.  You can take her.  They are your birthright, your
privilege.  Why do you bother being faithful, fool?  You think
she's done the same?  While you were watching the Queen spit food
at you, she was shaking the bushes with Agnon, Jolan, even
Kiaphas and the priest.  You know the kinds of appetites she has. 
Do you think she'll ever be satisfied with just you? Do.."
  "Stop!" I roared, moving forward, my paws raised and my
claws out, threatening.  He actually dared to laugh at me!
  "Oh, the mighty roar of the king." he mocked, "What will you
do?  Kill me?  Ah, now that would truly be a sight to behold.  As
well reach inside and rip out your heart, for without me, you
cannot live.  Oh, you'd go on for a while, but without your
savage fire inside, you'll wither, waste away.  Face it, fool,
you need me.  You need me, because without me you are nothing but
an overgrown kitten.  Don't you know that?  Do you not remember
me?"  I grabbed him by his throat, and slammed him against the
wall.
  "Yes, I remember you.  I've known you since I took my first
breath and I'll know you till I'm dead and cold, and maybe even
then you'll still haunt me.  You're the stupid, ignorant, shallow
part of me that never learned to care about anything other than
yourself.  You're the cruel, sadistic part of me that I fight
everytime I hunt, everytime I fight to defend myself, everytime I
get angry.  You are my constant temptation, the jealousy I feel
every time any man gets too close to Diana, the evil, seditious
part that whispers lies in my ears.  You and I have been more
intimate than ever we should have been.  How can I not know you?" 
He grinned again, thinking that I was admitting defeat.  How
little he knew me, even after so long.  I slashed him across the
face, drawing three long red lines in his cheek.  "I know that
I've beaten you before, and I'll beat you again.  You say I need
you, but you need me!  You call me a kitten, but without me to
hold you back you're nothing but a slobbering beast waiting,
begging for someone to put you out of everybody's misery.  I
despise you, and because of that I sometimes despise myself for
having you as part of me.  Let you in, you say?  If only I could
shut you out!  What you mean is let you take over, let you have
control.  That's not going to happen, so you can forget it.  And
while you're forgetting that, you can forget that you even
thought of Diana being unfaithful, because if I ever hear, or so
much as imagine I hear, you say anything about her again, I'll
beat you into the dust, royal blood and all.  Yes, the humans
call me deamon.  Yes, they hate me.  Now you say that I should
give them a reason to kill me?  You are the fool, not I.  Now get
you back to whatever hole you dripped out of.  GO!" I roared, and
the pale imitation of myself that I was holding vanished, but
it's laughter remained behind, mocking me.  I returned to my
bunk, and curled up, shaking from my visitation.  "King!" my mind
echoed his voice and his mocking laugh, "King of beasts!"  
  I was not alone in my visions.  As we entered the Mists
everyone found themselves haunted by apparitions and terrors from
their darkest dreams.
  "Beloved."  Marse woke from his magically induced sleep. 
"Beloved."  She stood before him, her white gown stained a dark
brown, the wound at her neck still open and pulsating.  He looked
into her eyes, and found such piercing sadness that he was forced
to look away.  "Why have you left me?"  She asked, anguish in her
voice, "Don't you know that I am tormented here?  You are
destroying everything.  You have brought sorrow and grief to the
Light, where it was never meant to be.  Even now, the Darkness
corrupts it, turning comfort and hope to cold, pale fear.  There
is only one way to stop it."  She reached out her hands to him. 
"Come, embrace me, take me now in death as you could not in life,
and I will take you home with me, to where you belong.  The dead
were not meant to rise.  The veil can part only one way, and you
have torn it asunder in clinging to this life.  Come, please!" 
He could see the cold torment in her eyes, now, read her agony in
her trembling lips, "Or do you no longer find me desirable?  Have
I ever been anything less that what you have wanted me to be? 
Why do you not answer me?  Why have you no words for she who
would have been your wife?"  Marse hung his head, his heart torn
with pain and renewed grief.  Her voice gentled, "No, no,
Beloved, do not hang your head so.  I have not come to bring you
sorrow, but to bring an end to torment, both yours and mine."
  "Beloved."  He repeated her, "Beloved, I have longed to be
with you again since the day you died.  I tried to save you,
but..." He stared down at his hands, clenching them, "I couldn't. 
I didn't have the strength.  I have failed you."  Her gaze was
suddenly hot and furious.
  "You failed me?  You failed yourself is what you mean.  By
what right do you begrudge me my afterlife?  Why should you be
miserable that I am happy?  Are you that selfish?" 
  "No, I... I'm sorry."
  "And well you should be."  She was just as suddenly gentle
again,  "Now, come to me.  I have been too long without your
embrace.  Come."  Marse stood and walked toward her, but it
seemed as though the distance between them stretched the closer
he tried to come.  As she receded before him, he began to dash
madly, heedlessly toward her.  
  "Beloved!  Beloved!  Don't leave me!  Not again.  Not ever
again!"  He ran, not caring where his feet took him, knocking
over crates and sending crewmen diving out of his way, chasing
the ghost of his one love.  He ran, his heart pounding, until he
found himself held back by some strange force.  He pushed, but it
would not yield.  "Beloved!" he cried again.  The apparition
reappeared directly in front of him.
  "You are pathetic.  You can't even learn to die properly." 
And then she turned and walked contemptuously away, vanishing
into a pale gray haze.  Marse slumped against the rigging, all
that held him from plunging into the sea, his body quaking with
the warring feelings of relief and longing within him.
  Diana was seated in the ladies' cabin, engaged in reading
the histories of the Kandan Empire, when she was interrupted by a
small, coughing noise, as of someone clearing their throat to
gain attention.  She turned to find a slender young maiden behind
her, dressed in a long, flowing white gown, her crimson hair
draped around her shoulders.  
  "Who are you?"  The maiden looked up, and Diana saw that her
eyes were red with crying.  "What is the matter?"
  "You fool.  You've lost him."  
  "Lost him?  Do I know you?"  A shuddering sob wracked the
pale women before her.  "Are you all right?"
  "Your concern is best saved for yourself!"  The woman choked
out.  She spread her hands down over the gown, her attention
seeming to wander.  "Do you like the dress?  It was the one
Mother wanted to see her daughter wedded in.  The dress
grandmother gave to her.  But he doesn't love me anymore, and
it's your fault.  How could you have been so stupid?  How could
you think things could ever be the same?"
  "I don't understand!  Who are you?  What is my fault?  I
don't recall ever meeting you!"  The woman smiled, but it was
devoid of humor.
  "Know me?  Yes, I'd say you know me.  You happy fool, I've
haunted your dreams and nightmares for years, ever since you woke
that night, ever since you were blessed and cursed with that
body.  How can you not know me?  I am what you've dreamed of
being.  I am human again."  
  "No.  No, you can't be.  This isn't real, this isn't
happening!"  The lady brushed that aside as immaterial.  
  "Do you think that matters?  We've lost him, and it's all
because you couldn't leave well enough alone.  He loves you
because you are strong, because he's seen in you the same wild
freedom he finds in himself.  As a human you are too weak and
fragile for him to love.  Oh, he tried.  He desperately wanted to
love you, but you just couldn't be what he needed."
  "You aren't me.  You can't be.  He'd never leave me, never!" 
In response to her first statement, she turned around and
unfastened the neck of her gown, sliding it down enough that
Diana could see the wide patch of scars across her back.  In
response to her second, she just shook her head, sadly.  "NO!  I
won't let you make me doubt him.  I don't want to be human, not
that badly, but even if I did, he would still love me, because it
isn't my body that he loves."  The woman before her gave a short,
mirthless laugh of contempt.
  "You fool yourself now, but when has anyone ever wanted you
for anything else?  Of course he wants you, you're the only one
he's ever met who's anything like himself.  But there's more. 
Oh, there's so much more."  She let the dress fall the rest of
the way to the ground, and turned to face Diana again.  Diana
could now see the newer scars, along her arms and breasts and
stomach, running in long slashes down her legs.  "Shaloc whipped
you, and you hated him for it.  You haven't experienced
Firemane's anger yet, but you will, and his temper is all the
worse, and you'll still love him.  He'll do this to you, leaving
you bleeding and shaken, and then he'll take what he wants of
you, just as Shaloc did before him.  He's a good man, Diana, as
far as that goes, but he's just a man, a man with the heart and
urges of a beast.  Have you ever met a man who could be trusted? 
Your father?  He cast you out of his house!  The village boys? 
They only wanted to get you in the barn and get your clothes off. 
Your sister's teacher?  His lusts got you where you are today. 
They can't be trusted, and you know it.  They'll use you, beat
you, and leave you, and you'll crawl back to them and ask, beg,
that they do it again, because even getting beaten is better than
knowing you're eternally alone."
  "No," Diana whispered, shaking her head violently in denial,
"No, you're wrong.  You have to be wrong."
  "Oh?  And why?  Have you ever met anyone who you could
trust?  They're all just out to help themselves, and nobody gives
a damn about you, not for a second.  Everyone you've ever trusted
has betrayed you, and you know it.  And here you are, placing
blind faith in this... this half-man, something that was thrown
into a cage with you.  He says he doesn't know his past.  How do
you know that's true?  How do you know he isn't running from
trouble, using you as a means to escape?"  Diana stood, driven at
last to anger.
  "Now you look here!  I've had enough of you talking about
Firemane.  You have no right.  This isn't real, none of it, not
you, not the scars, not your words.  This is a mist-vision,
something conjured up to frighten me into hurting myself.  Well
it won't work.  I deny you!  Do you hear me!  I DENY YOU!"  She
stormed forward and slashed the image before her, which parted
like the mist that spawned it, vanishing.  Trembling, Diana
returned to her seat.  Moments later, the ink on the page before
her smudged and bled as the first tears began to fall in a gentle
rain of sorrow.
  Jolan was coming back from a long talk with the captain,
when he caught a stealthy movement out of the corner of his eye. 
When he turned to investigate he saw a slumped shadowy form,
momentarily silhouetted against the sea.  The shape vanished so
quickly that he almost doubted that he'd seen it, but he hurried
to follow, knowing that the mysterious shape could be any of a
dozen minions of evil.  When he stood where the shape had been,
he found a trail of dust on the ground, fine and black, like ash. 
He turned to his left and saw the shape watching him at a
distance.  Jolan decided to take a look at this thing.  He raised
his hand and spoke a few arcane words.  Nothing happened.  He
tried again, this time slowly and carefully enunciating each
phrase.  Again, nothing happened.  The dark shape began to creep
slowly forward.  Jolan cast his spell a third time, this time
pouring a tremendous amount of power into the casting, and
managed to produce a pale, flickering glow.  So distracted had he
been with the casting that he had ignored the dark lump, which
was standing quite close to him by that time.  It stood out black
against the pale amber glow of his spell.  Jolan jerked back,
instinctively, and the light began to flicker.  The thing
laughed, a most disturbing sound, hoarse and scratched.
  "Having problems, old one?  Ah, I see.  Using the magic not
as easy as it used to be, then?  Maybe you just aren't casting it
right.  Here, let me try."  The lump snarled the cantrip in a way
that seemed almost obscene, and the deck around them gave off a
bright blue light.  "There, that's not so hard, is it?  So easy,
why, even an apprentice could do it.  Indeed, even as his first
spell, wouldn't you say, Jolan?"  Jolan's face drained of color
as he recognized what stood before him.
  "No.  No, you're dead."
  "Yes.  Yes, I am dead.  I'm dead because of you.  This..
this twisted shape is all that I have left.  Everything else, my
soul, my skin, my strength, burned away by that spell.  Don't act
so surprised, Jolan.  You've always known that you deserve to die
for your sins.  Isn't it easier this way?  We go to the Darkness
together now, as it should have been all those years ago.  You
know that it is the reward you have earned.  Did you honestly
think you could snub both gods and deamons and not pay the price
for it?"  The blackened stump of a hand came up, and the blue
fire enveloped it.  "Fight me, Jolan.  We will fight, we two, a
duel of the damned, and I will send you to the deepest hell, but
I will send you off with honor, and I will join you there.  Isn't
that better than staying huddled in your tower with your failing
spells and fading life, waiting while death slowly steals
everything from you, taking you to the Darkness one slow piece at
a time?  Oh, but that's right, you have the girl.  Do you really
think a beautiful young immortal like her could see anything in
an ancient wreck like you?  Imagine how she sees you, watching
death slowly overcome you, watching your pathetic mortal body
decay before her eyes.  Forget her.  As the captain said, at
least die on your feet, instead of in your bed."  Jolan shook his
head.
  "I'll not fight you.  I bear you no ill."  The thing laughed
again, this time a strangling, gurgling noise, as though it's
lungs were filled with fluid.
  "It matters not what ill you bear me.  I mean to kill you,
and I will do it whether you choose to defend yourself or not." 
Still Jolan didn't move.  "Then so be it!"  The blaze around the
creature's hand extended itself upward, becoming a flaming blue
sword.  Jolan fell to his knees in submission, and it raised the
blade, bringing it crashing down...
  To smash against a shield of golden light.  "No." Jolan
said, anger making his voice a hard whisper, "No, I'll not go
like that, not like that.  If I am to die," he stood, facing the
thing with his golden light flooding the deck around him, pushing
back the azure glow it had created, his voice rising, "then all
the world shall know of it.  If I am to die," he began to shout,
the golden light coalescing into a nigh-unbearably bright nimbus
of flame, his voice beginning to rumble with the power he was
channeling, "then all the world will hear my cry.  I," he
thundered, so loud that it seemed the very waves fled from his
voice, "am Jolan Occarius, Archmage Supreme!  I am Jolan
Occarius, and I will not give up!  I am Jolan Occarius, and by
all the Powers and the Seven Hells, I will not be killed by the
likes of you!  If the Darkness wants me, then it had blasted well
better send something better than you to take me.  They insult me
by sending such a puny threat to defeat me. GO!" He raised his
hands, and bolts of magic flew from his fingers, piercing the
charred figure before him, "Go back to the darkest Hell, back to
tell your masters that I am not theirs yet, not by a measure!" 
The thing evaporated, and Jolan found himself alone, drawing
breath after shuddering breath trying to recover his composure. 
He turned to find the captain standing behind him.
  "What in the Hells are you up to, Jolan?  If anyone was
trying to sleep, they're awake now for sure.  What was that you
were shouting?  I couldn't make out a Hell-Blasted word of it. 
Gods, Jolan, if you needed a light, you could have just asked me
for a lantern!  What, the first spell wasn't bright enough for
you?"
  "You... you didn't see it?"
  "See what?  Blastit, man, have you gone mad?  You've been
standing here alone for the past ten minutes, and that blasted
light of yours got brighter everytime you spoke."
  "Impossible, he was just here!"
  "Who was?"
  "My dead apprentice, of course!"  Jolan snapped, then
realized how crazed he must sound, and took another moment to
calm himself.  "Look, I... let's go back inside.  I don't think I
care for this night air."  He shivered, and the captain nodded.
  "Yes, I think perhaps we should.  Jolan, look at me."  Jolan
looked up, and the captain saw the drawn look on his friend's
face.  "Whatever you thought you saw, it wasn't real.  We're in
the Mists, remember?"
  "Mists?  Why, there are no Mists here, the sea is clear for
miles around."
  "Jolan, you've already had one hallucination.  It happens
sometimes, afterward, that you can't see the Mists anymore, Blast
if I know why.  I thought you were prepared for this!"
  "I am, but... it was so real."  
  "It always is.  I suggest that we gather everyone together
for a while.  I don't think anyone should be alone, now."  Jolan
nodded, beginning to feel the strain of his display.
  "You're right, old friend.  Gods, but I'm tired now."  The
captain looked sharply at him.
  "You didn't overdraw yourself, did you?  You're not going to
have a reaction, I hope?  Not like last time?"  Jolan shook his
head.
  "No, it's not that bad.  I just need to get some sleep. 
Truth, though, I shouldn't have used as much as I did, not when
we're going somewhere as dangerous and unknown as Kanda.  Don't
worry, I'll be fine.  Truly."  The captain took his word for it,
and led him back down below decks.  
  Meanwhile, Felin and Palas were talking in the galley when
they had their visitations.  Palas was arguing some minor point
with her dwarven friend when she looked up.  
  "Oh, it's you." She said coldly, greeting someone that Felin
couldn't see.  "What do you want now?"  She seemed to listen for
a moment, and then it seemed to Felin as though ever muscle in
her body had been cut, because she just seemed to collapse,
sobbing.  "How did you know?  Who told you?  Diana swore... but I
knew she'd tell Firemane, I just knew she would, and he must
have... he must have said something."  Whoever she was speaking
to must have said something harsh, Felin later said, because
Palas flinched as though struck.
  "You disgust me!" Jolan was yelling at her, "And to think I
almost admitted to loving you!  You perverted little harlot!  You
don't need a lover, you need a baby-sitter!  How did you think
anyone could ever love you?  Gods, how stupid you must be!  Go to
the same Hell as your brother, you wicked thing.  Don't you know
that you are forever damned for your wickedness?  You claim that
you and your brother were never lovers, but I know better.  You
must have slept with him.  A young elf maid, at your age, living
dependent on an older man, and you claim that everything was
innocent?  Impossible!  An outrageous lie!"  
  "It's true, I swear it!" Palas protested, but she never
raised her head from where she sat drawing into a heaving ball.
  "Lying, incestuous whore!  No wonder they were carting you
off to a prison!  You're just lucky your family never got hold of
you, or they'd likely have stoned you!  Get out of my sight, you
tart!"  Palas jumped up and ran out, tears streaming down her
face, Felin calling after her.
  "Now what in Tur's name was that about?" Felin wondered
aloud, having only caught Palas's side of the argument.
  "What have I told you about swearing?" A familiar voice
called from behind her.  Felin sucked in her breath with a hiss,
and whirled around to find a round ball of a dwarf standing
behind her, hands on her well-padded hips.
  "Mother?"
  "Don't you 'Mother' me, young lady!" her mother began, and
Felin slouched down even smaller than she already was.  There was
nothing quite as terrible as her mother's lectures.
  Meanwhile, Kiaphas turned a corner to be greeted by his
father, Talmurgeon.  Though momentarily taken aback, he made the
proper gestures of respect before rising to meet his father's
stern gaze.  "My son," the draconian leader said, "I fear there
is horrible news.  These companions of yours are using the dark
powers of sorcery to control you."
  "Again?!" Kiaphas grimaced. 
  "Yes, I am afraid so.  The mage, Jolan, that one is known to
us as a man of great evil.  He seeks to reverse the magic Balan
laid upon us, and return us to the state of beasts."
  "No, he wouldn't... he's not evil... is he?"  
  "It is not the place of the son to doubt the words of the
father!"  Talmurgeon snapped, and Kiaphas bowed, admitting his
error, "What is that around your neck, my son?"  Kiaphas reached
up to touch the talisman Jolan had given him.  "Ah, you see?  He
has already begun to corrupt you."  Kiaphas knelt before his
father, submitting himself to his wisdom.
  "Tell me what I must do, father."
  "Ah, now that is the son that I remember.  You must kill
him."  Kiaphas was shocked enough to look up from the floor.
  "Surely you don't mean that?  Is it not more wrong to kill
than any other crime?"
  "You question again, where you should be listening.  I fear
your time among these outsiders has done you much harm.  Fear
not, I will straighten you out, in time.  But first, you must do
this.  I command it, both as your father and as Ruler-Elect.  Go,
and do not face me again until the deed is done."  Kiaphas
reluctantly nodded, and bowed once more.  When he looked up
again, his father was gone.
  If Agnon had a vision, he kept it to himself.  He was,
however, in a very bad mood for the rest of the voyage.  Then
again, that wasn't far from normal for him.  
  Per the captain's advice, Jolan set out to gather everyone
together, which generated some interesting encounters.  Jolan
came and got me first, at which point he suffered me to touch his
face to make certain that he was real--just a precaution, of
course, but I didn't want to take any chances--and we set off to
the galley, where we found Felin staring at her shoes, a mournful
expression on her face.  Jolan called her, and she looked up as
though she'd been drowning and we'd thrown her a rope.  She
looked around, as though surprised that we were the only ones
there, and then joined us.  She related a little of her vision,
and she seemed much quieter than usual.  We found Diana in the
ladies' cabin, and she rushed to embrace me.  I gathered that she
had missed me during my absence, and I once again regretted that
we had been given separate cabins.  The captain had a strange
sense of propriety.  Jolan and I went off to find Agnon and
Marse, Felin was sent to find Kiaphas, and Diana was sent to see
if she could find Palas.  Felin was so disturbed by the
chastising vision of her mother that she forgot to mention the
state of mind Palas was in.  That, as it happened, was
unfortunate, but then, we were all more than a little shaken.  
  It took some time, but Diana finally managed to track her
down.  She was in one of the holds, hidden behind some crates,
curled up in a tight ball and shivering.  Diana called her, and
she looked up, her eyes filled with unreasoning terror.  She was
shaking like a mouse just out of an owl's claws, and she pulled
back, pushing herself up against the wall behind her.  
  "Palas, it's me, Diana.  Don't you recognize me?"  Palas
just trembled.  Diana put her paws where Palas could see them,
and came slowly forward, making soothing, calming sounds.  Palas
looked terrified, but she stayed where she was, her breath coming
in heaves and hiccups.  When Diana was fairly close, she knelt
down, and leaned against the crate behind her, watching Palas. 
After a time, Palas's terror seemed to subside a little, as she
got used to Diana's presence.  After a moment more, she shyly
looked up at her face.  When she saw that Diana was watching, she
quickly looked away, but not before she saw the kind smile on her
face.  She still flinched when Diana spoke, but not so much as
before.
  "No, don't be afraid.  It's all right, Palas.  I'm a friend. 
You sure you don't remember me?"  Palas stared at her for a
moment, then quickly jerked her head back and forth.  "Well,
that's all right, because I know you.  My goodness, but you sure
look like you could use a friend right now.  Do you need a
friend?"  
  Palas looked at her suspiciously.  After seeming to give the
matter some thought, she nodded.  Diana patted the ground next to
her, so Palas scrambled quickly over, and Diana was nearly
knocked over as the elf threw her arms around her and clung like
a vine.  After recovering her breath, she put her arm around the
elf's shoulder, and slowly brought her other hand up to stroke
Palas's hair.  She held her until her trembling stopped, and she
slowly relaxed against Diana's side, her hand creeping up to curl
around a handful of Diana's crimson fur.  "You know," Diana said,
mock-seriously, "You could have picked a better time for this. 
But then, I suppose you didn't pick the time, did you?"  She got
no answer, but then, she didn't really expect one.  "Do you think
you could say something?" she asked, "Like, maybe telling me why
you're down here?"  She felt the head lodged in her ribs move
quickly from side to side.  "Well, nothing for it then but to
wait it out, I suppose."  So she sat there, until Palas seemed to
doze off.  Diana was just beginning to wonder if she should carry
her sleeping friend back to meet with us, when Palas woke and
pushed herself up.  
     "Diana?  What are you doing here?"  She yawned, seeming
suddenly very childish again, but she shook it off, "Sorry. 
Where are we?"
  "We're in the forward hold.  Are you all right now?"  Palas
seemed to ponder that for a moment.
  "I don't know."  He brow creased with confusion, "I don't
remember how I got here."
  "Well, when I got here, you were curled up in a ball,
shaking all over, and you didn't recognize me.  I think you may
have had one of those relapses you mentioned."  Palas groaned. 
Looking extremely embarrassed, she quickly tried to apologize.
  "That would explain a lot.  I'm sorry, Diana, I really
didn't mean for..."  
  "Oh, hush.  I'm your friend, and it was really no trouble. 
I'm just glad you seem to be feeling better."  Palas frowned.
  "Things are coming back to me now.  I ran from the galley,
and... and then I just..."
  "You just wanted to curl up somewhere and cry, right?" 
Palas nodded.  "You needn't be embarrassed by that.  I had a good
crying fit today myself."  She told Palas a little bit about the
vision she'd had.  Palas sat up a little straighter.
  "That reminds me, I'm supposed to be furious with you."
  "With me?  Whatever for?"  So Palas told her about Jolan's
harsh words.  "I admit, I did tell Firemane."  Palas just sighed.
  "I wish I could get angry, but... I just feel too worn out
inside."
  "Well, don't worry.  If Firemane went and told Jolan, I'll
be furious enough for both of us, all right?"  Palas seemed to
hover indecisively for a moment, but then gave in and gave Diana
a clumsy hug around her neck.  
  "I'm sorry Diana, I just.. oh, Hells, thank you, Diana, for
being my friend, and for not belittling me about... before." 
Diana laughed.
  "Palas, there are worse things than needing to act a little
childish.  I mean, I get to be playful every now and again
myself... though that's usually early in the morning, with
Firemane laughing at the way I look when I wake up.  There is
nothing wrong with being who you are, and nothing evil about what
you do.  If Jolan can't see that, then that's his loss.  After
all, he's the one who fell in love with you, right?  If he can't
handle this, then I think he's mistaken a minor infatuation for
love.  True love can handle anything." she said, ending more
harshly than she'd intended, speaking as much to herself as to
Palas.  
  "But... all those things he said.  He hates me."  
  "Well, now, it's possible that what you saw wasn't real.  We
are in the Mists, and not everything you see can be trusted as
truth.  After all, I couldn't have really seen myself as a human,
in a wedding gown, now could I?  I'd have to be in two places at
once, for one thing."  Palas nodded.  "But we really should be
getting back to the others.  You feel up to walking?"
  "I think I might manage, yeah."  So they stood, and came to
the captain's quarters, Palas leaning a bit on Diana's shoulder.  
  Meanwhile, Jolan and I found Agnon with little trouble, and
set out to find Marse.  It was fairly easy to find him, since
several crewmen had seen him running about.  He was still tangled
in the rigging when we found him, staring unseeing out onto the
horizon.  He seemed to return to his senses somewhat when we
managed to pull him down, though he was still very pale and
quiet.  We were the first ones back to the captain's quarters,
though we'd had to track down both thief and cleric, and we sat
about in silence waiting for the others to arrive, each absorbed
in his own thoughts.  We sat there for a while, and the silence
was becoming very uncomfortable by the time Palas and Diana came
in, Palas looking a little more pale than usual, her hair
sticking up like the straw Felin so often accused it of being. 
They sat down, and I went to sit near Diana, but she seemed
somehow cool and aloof, so I just sat and watched while she
absently ran her claws through Palas's hair, bringing it somewhat
under control.  I finally got tired of being ignored.  I leaned
near to whisper to her.
  "Diana, have I done something that I don't know about?  Did
you see an apparition?"  She looked at me, still seeming a little
distant.
  "Did you by any chance tell Jolan what I told you?"
  "About what?"  She rolled her eyes and gestured to Palas,
who was doing her best not to look like she was trying not to
look at Jolan.  "No, of course not!"
  "Well, Palas says that he was yelling at her in the galley,
and he knew everything, Firemane."  I shrugged.
  "And I saw a dark version of myself ripping boards to shreds
in my cabin.  Want to see if there are any scratches there?"  She
sighed.
  "I know, it's these blasted Mists, but you didn't see her,
Firemane, she..."  Palas's head whipped around so quickly I was
sure it would twist off, and Diana cut off abruptly, sighing. 
"I'm sorry, Palas.  It's just hard to keep anything from
Firemane.  Telling him is like telling it to myself."  Palas
nodded, and brought her chair around to face us, so the three of
us sat in a tight circle.  
  "I'll tell him, Diana.  I wouldn't want to force you to keep
secrets from him.  She found me in the forward hold, curled up in
the middle of a relapse.  She helped me deal with it, then
brought me here.  So, where's Felin?"
  "She went to find Kiaphas.  Um, I wouldn't worry overmuch
about things you think Jolan said.  For one thing, I haven't told
another soul what I know, so if he found out, it had to be from
somewhere else.  Were you afraid of Jolan finding out, and
rejecting you for it?"  Palas nodded, ever so slowly.  "It seems
that we see the things we fear acted out."  She gave me a curious
look.
  "And what do you fear, Firemane?  The last time I saw you
afraid was because of a Terror spell, and even then you overcame
it."  I shuddered.  Diana answered for me.
  "He saw himself, without a conscience."  Palas nodded
thoughtfully.
  "Yes, I'd definitely say that would be frightening.  Hells,
I'd rather face a real deamon than that!"  
  "I'm not sure if I'm flattered by that or not." I muttered,
but I was interrupted when Felin came in, with Kiaphas behind
her.  Kiaphas looked seriously nervous about something.  He saw
Jolan sitting across the room, and took several deep breaths.  He
reached up and grabbed the amulet Jolan had given him, and he
snapped it off its chain and dropped it to the floor.
  "Betrayer!" He screamed, drawing a dagger as he ran toward
his target.  Jolan was caught completely by surprise, and would
have almost certainly have died, had a silvery bolt not knocked
Kiaphas into the wall, which seemed to twist around and hold him. 
  "I've got him!" the Nyad's Call said, "Somebody grab that
knife before he pokes a hole in me!"  Agnon grabbed the
draconian's wrist and twisted the dagger free, but was kicked
back a moment later for his efforts.  Palas stood next to me, her
hands still frozen in the final position they'd taken during the
casting.  Jolan stood, and wove his hands slowly in front of
Kiaphas's face, who twisted and pulled twice as fiercely to get
free, but soon dropped into a heavy sleep.  
  "Well," the captain said, after everyone had more or less
calmed down, "Now that we're all here, why don't we figure out
what to do about these blasted visions?"
  "First things first!" I said, "There may yet be a few things
to clear up.  People have been acting on false assumptions, and
what happened with Kiaphas is an example of what that could lead
to.  Now, who's angry at who for what?  I think we should all
give a description of the impossible things we've seen tonight. 
I'll start." I drew a deep breath, "I saw an evil copy of myself,
who suggested that I would be better off slaughtering everyone in
sight."  I paused for a moment.  "I didn't listen, in case you
were worrying."  Marse spoke next, though he spoke to his feet.
  "I saw Jessica.  She was calling me back to the afterlife." 
Jolan stood.
  "I saw my old apprentice, burned beyond recognition, and we
got into something of a shouting contest."  Felin spoke after
that.
  "I saw my mother.  She gave me the sharp side of her tongue,
though for the life of me I can't remember why." She gave a thin,
nervous laugh,  "Probably for not listening, I suppose." 
Everyone laughed a bit at that, and the tension in the room
eased.
  "Agnon?"  He shrugged.
  "Never you mind.  Nothing that concerns anyone but me." 
Agnon was being his usual cooperative self.
  "Now, who does that leave?" 
  "Me, the captain, Palas, and Kiaphas." Diana said,  "But I
don't think Kiaphas will be telling anything for a while.  I saw
myself as human again, and I was told... unpleasant things."  I
didn't want to ask in front of everyone, but she nodded to me as
if to say she understood.  We'd talk later.  
  "Well, I didn't have any visions." the captain said, "I
can't think of anything I fear anymore.  I mean, even the things
you see in your midnight horrors can only kill you, and I gave up
being afraid of death a long while back.  It's counter-
productive, you know."  Silence reigned for several minutes,
before everyone turned to Palas.  I regretted that I had included
her in this, but I couldn't very well exclude her without
explaining why.  After an uncomfortable moment, she stood.
  "I.. I think this was a vision.  I saw Jolan... yelling at
me.  Saying that he hated me."  She stood there for a moment,
silent and dreading, and then looked at Jolan for a response. 
"Well, blastit, Jolan, don't just sit there!"  She said, fear
making her voice harsh, "Was it a vision or not?"  
  "It was a vision.  The first time I saw you tonight was when
you came into this room, and the only yelling I did was at an
apparition."  His voice got so low that even my ears could barely
pick it up.  "I certainly never said anything about hating you." 
I wasn't sure if Palas heard that last, but she heard enough. 
She sat back down, and I joined her a moment later.  I decided
that I'd also need to talk to Palas, but that, too, would have to
come later.
  "Well," The captain said, "Nothing for it now but to wait
for Kiaphas to wake up.  Perhaps we should do something about
restraining him somewhere other than in my lady's arms?"
  "This does grow tiresome." The Nyad's Call seconded.
  "I think we could manage to work something," Jolan said.  He
hesitated, and looked at Palas for a moment, but then turned to
me instead.  "Firemane, would you come here for a moment?  I need
someone with a little power to help me.  When I lost my temper I
expended more energy than I should have."  I nodded, and joined
him across the room.  The ship released Kiaphas, and the
draconian slid to the ground, still slumbering.  We hefted him
into a chair, and Jolan borrowed some of my power to cast a spell
to keep him there.  Blue and gold bands appeared around Kiaphas,
binding him to the chair.  The drain of the spell had me a little
tired, but Jolan looked positively haggard.  He didn't argue or
complain when the captain offered him his bed, but just laid down
and started snoring softly a second later.  
  "He should have asked me," Palas whispered, speaking low and
to no one in general, "I have more skill and my reserves are
replenished now."  Diana nudged her and she turned again to face
her.  
  "He doesn't know that you've... recovered some of your spent
magic, remember?  Besides, I don't think either of you is
particularly comfortable with the other at the moment.  Give it
time, and a little hope."  Palas seemed to accept that, and they
fell to talking of other things.  
  We were all soon growing tired, and it was decided that we
should remain where we were for the night, and that someone
should stay awake, to keep watch.  It was also decided that
whoever it was shouldn't be alone.  Palas volunteered, saying
that she wouldn't be able to sleep anyway, and I followed suit,
though I was more than a little tired.  When I was sure everyone
was asleep, I tried to talk to Palas.  She stopped me.
  "Firemane, I don't want to talk about it right now, okay? 
It's been a long, horrible night, and I'm still a bit confused. 
You should have gone to sleep with the others, my friend.  You
look tired."
  "I am tired, Palas, but I thought you might want someone to
talk to.  If not, that's all right, but eventually, you'll have
to take a chance with someone, and it might as well be Jolan.  I
think he really likes you, but..."
  "He doesn't even know me, Firemane!  And I know almost
nothing about him!"
  "Well, you never will if you two avoid the sight of each
other!  Besides... I think you like him more than you'll admit." 
She just stared at me.  "Well, if you don't, why were you so
upset when you thought he didn't like you?"
  "I said," she answered, with a determined set to her jaw, "I
don't want to talk about it.  Why don't you get some sleep,
Firemane?"  She gave me a small, secretive smile.  I opened my
mouth to ask what that look meant, but what came out was a
massive yawn.  She was still smiling as my eyelids dropped
heavily down, and I drifted off to sleep.  
  I woke several hours later, feeling somewhat betrayed,
though very much refreshed.  Everyone else was still asleep, but
Palas was nowhere to be found.  Cursing, I got up and went to
look for her.  I didn't get far before I was halted by the ship's
call, reverberating throughout the corridor.
  "Land!"